


The Hedgehog

by TheStageManager



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hedgehog - Freeform, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStageManager/pseuds/TheStageManager
Summary: Obi-Wan returns home from an away mission to find that Qui-Gon has brought home yet another ‘pathetic life form’.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	The Hedgehog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyber-erso (aoraki)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoraki/gifts).



Obi-Wan had just returned to Coruscant after his third-ever senior padawan solo mission. It had been a relatively mundane mission, despite the fact that it had taken place on a miserable, rainy mudball of a planet.

Qui-Gon met him at the landing platform, a pleased smile resting on his face. “I read your report,” he said. “It sounds like the mission went well,” he said, opening his arms for a hug.

Obi-Wan was quick to return the gesture, even if he was covered in mud and smelled like a bantha—Qui-Gon didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m either dead or having a stroke. I could’ve sworn, dear master, that you just said you read my report,” Obi-Wan quipped with a mischievous smile.

Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice sharply and frowned. “Don’t act so surprised, padawan mine,” he said, tugging on his student’s braid with mock-irritation. “I’ll have you know that I read every single one of your reports,”

“Even the ones I write under your name, because you can’t be bothered to do them?” Obi-Wan asked, all to innocently, rocking back and forth on his toes.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat and scowled. “...yes,” he said.

“And I’ll have you know, Master-dearest, that I know you are lying. For shame, Master, lying is not the Jedi way,” the young man teased and Qui-Gon rolled his eyes.

“Your newfound independence has turned you into quite a cheeky young brat,” Qui-Gon mused as Obi-Wan chuckled. “Some punishment may be in order to rectify such insolence,”

“Such as?”

“I am removing your diner privileges for a week,”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in horror. “What? Master, no, you can’t! Dex will miss me terribly,” he plead, halfway between serious and jesting, as he was unsure how far Qui-Gon was going to take the bit. “What am I going to eat for a week?” he protested, and Qui-Gon’s eyebrows narrowed.

“What do you mean by that? I will cook for us,” Qui-Gon said trepidatiously, as if he knew where this conversation was going.

“Eating your cooking for a week? Now that’s a fate worse than death,” Obi-Wan teased, bumping into his Master.

“You cheeky, cheeky brat,” Qui-Gon said, and, though his tone was unhappy, he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

By that point, they had reached their quarters and Qui-Gon all but pushed Obi-Wan inside. “A trip to the fresher is much needed, my young padawan. Hurry up—you smell terrible,”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Alright. Alright. At least let me set my things down first,” he said, padding towards his room. Then, he stopped. “Did you really read my report?” he asked.

Qui-Gon merely smiled. “Of course I did. Now, hurry up. You’re tracking mud everywhere,”

“Alright, alright, I’m going. No need to rush me,”

Upon entering his room, Obi-Wan dropped his knapsack on the ground, took off his boots, made his way over to his bed, and frowned.

“What is this?” he called, his voice halfway between curiosity and confusion.

“I couldn’t possibly know what you are referring to,” Qui-Gon said noncommittally from the other room, where he had sat down to finish reading something on his data pad.

Obi-Wan merely rolled his eyes. “This!” He said, gesturing more emphatically at his bed. Well, specifically, he was gesturing to the strange, spiked creature curled up in a huffing ball on his bed. “What is _this?”_

Now it was Qui-Gon’s turn to huff. “Padawan, you will need to be more articulate than that, I cannot see what you’re referring to, I am in the other room!”

“Come in here and look at it!” Obi-Wan protested.

“Pick it up and bring it in here! You have hands and legs, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and released his current feelings of irritation and _homicide_ into the Force. “I can _not_ pick it up because it is covered in spikes! What is it!” he demanded.

“Oh!” Qui-Gon exclaimed, and Obi-Wan heard him leap to his feet. “Her! I call her Mooncake,” he said peaceably and he rounded the corner and stood in Obi-Wan’s doorway.

“Mooncake?” Obi-Wan echoed, entirely baffled.

“Yes,”

“What... is she exactly?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Qui-Gon said, looking very pleased with himself and Obi-Wan once again found himself releasing feeling of _murder_ into the Force.

“Master, why is it _here?_ ” Obi-Wan asked, carefully tucking his hands into his sleeves.

“ _She_ ,” the Master was quick to correct. “Is here because I found her and I didn’t know what she was, and I was curious about her,”

“So you brought her _here?”_ Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

“For observation, yes,”

“And why, pray tell, is she in _my_ room?” he demanded, and the little creature stuck uncurled just enough to stick its little snoot out and sniff around.

“Well, you weren’t here and, quite frankly, she reminds me of you: grumpy, huffy, and spiky,”

“I am neither grumpy nor spiky,” Obi-Wan huffed grumpily, leaning away when Qui-Gon chuckled and ruffled his short, spiky hair.

“You are, in fact, the grumpiest, huffiest, spikiest padawan I have ever met. Well... second only to Mooncake,” Qui-Gon said, gesturing to the little creature, who was sniffing the hair and shuffling gradually closer to Obi-Wan.

“I can’t believe you’ve replaced me so quickly,” Obi-Wan pouted, sliding his hands beneath the creatures belly and lifting her up to examine her more closely. She raised his spikes in irritation, but otherwise she remained calm.

“It couldn’t be helped. She is far cuter than you are,” Qui-Gon said simply.

“Master!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, and the spiked creature, Mooncake, had the audacity to lick her nose and look smug. “This is decidedly untrue!” he exclaimed petulantly, holding the spikes creature up near his face, as if in hopes that his master would compare the two and change his mind.

“Even so,” Qui-Gon said, gently scooping Mooncake out of Obi-Wan’s hands and into his own. “She smells far better than you do, at any rate. Go off and take a shower,” he chided and Obi-Wan merely rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m going. But you have to find somewhere else for her to sleep, she can’t stay on my bed tonight!”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “We shall see, padawan mine. We shall see,”


End file.
